atmosphere
by destroy something beautiful
Summary: Ron wakes up with cuts in his neck. After the murder of a girl who has the same cuts in her neck, Ron goes to find the killer.


A/N: Hey guys...sorry about this story, I had an idea & just started writing!

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Ron woke up with a sore neck and a killer head-ache. The sun was shining just a little to brightly and those damn birds were chirping just a little too loudly.

He was hung-over. Well, that explained the headache. What he didn't understand was the sore neck. He knew what could cause a sore neck- a drunk Ginny told him once, making Harry turn very, very red and the other Weasley boys to turn very, very angry. But Ron was straight as an arrow, so he was pretty sure he would never do _that_, even if he was drunk.

Of course, arrows can sometimes be crooked...forget it. He would never blow a guy. Even if he was paid a whole sack of Galleons. No. Would never do it.

So what caused his sore neck? This was going to bother him all day, but he needed to get up. It was almost noon, and he knew Harry made breakfast.

The floor was so damn cold. Why did the floor have to be so damn cold? Ron walked into the kitchen to face a very annoyed Harry.

"You're late for breakfast, Ron," he said dryly, tapping his foot- why did he have to tap so loudly?- against the hardwood floor.

"I know, but I'm hung over. Give me a break."

"ARE YOU HUNG OVER?" yelled Harry. Ron covered his ear and collapsed into the nearest chair.

"You are so very mean," he whispered, now cradling his pounding head. Harry laughed -a bit evilly- and threw a piece of toast at Ron.

"Eat. And get rid of your headache. We're meeting Ginny in an hour."

" Can you do it for me?" Ron asked sweetly, widening his eyes and pouting. Harry stared at him for a moment and then stomped and giggled.

"You know I can't resist the puppy eyes! Here-" Harry pulled out his wand, pointed it to Ron's temple and muttered a spell. Ron head cleared up, like little men were up there, sweeping everything away. Harry started to walk away when Ron remembered his sore neck. He perched his knees on the seat cushion and rested his elbows on top.

"Hey, Harry? Did I give a guy head last night?" Harry stopped walking. For a few moments he was quiet, but he spun around to look at Ron.

"Yes- and it was fantastic." He smiled and turned away. Ron coughed, which turned into a coughing fit.

"Are you-" a cough "-bloody serious?" Ron asked.

"Maybe, maybe not," Harry called from the other room.

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"Hey Ginny, how sore does your neck get after a blow job?" Ron asked casually as they walked down Floris Avenue. Ginny lit up a cigarette, took a puff, and blew smoke in Harry's face. He gagged.

"Aw, Gin, now I'm going to get second hand smoke! My lungs are turning black as we speak!"

"Depends how long you go at it. Why do you want to know?"

"I think I might have given Harry a blow job last night but I don't remember." Ginny flicked some ashes onto the sidewalk and took another puff.

"Seriously?" she asked, smoke escaping her mouth.

"That's what Harry said." Harry stopped mourning the health of his lungs.

"I was kidding." Ron sighed with relief.

"You say you have a sore neck?" Ginny questioned.

"Yeah, I woke up with a sore neck and a headache."

"Could be from those gashes on the side of your neck," she said, and stomped out her cigarette. Ron stopped walking.

"Gashes?" He stopped at a parked car to look in the window. There were to deep slashes in his neck. He contemplated what they could be from when a hushed crying interrupted his thoughts. Ron looks closer into the window to see a child staring at him and crying. He quickly walked away.

"Shouldn't people like, take their kids out of their cars?" Ginny shrugged.

"What do you think it's from?"

"I have no idea, I was too drunk to remember anything."

"You should be more like me. I remember everything anyone has ever said to me or done to me when I was drunk," said Ginny, who was pulling up her hair. Harry coughed.

"Everything?" he asked.

"Yes. Remember the morning after you called me fat and then let those kids squeeze my boobs?" Harry's eyes grew wide.

"And my eggs tasted really funny?"

"You're lucky I gave you the antidote in you orange juice." Ginny smiled- a bit sadistically- at him and lit another cigarette. Harry gaped and rubbed at his throat.

"Why the hell are there gashes in my neck?" Ginny rolled her eyes and put out her cigarette on the side of Ron's face. He winced in pain.

"I don't know. You seriously can't remember what happened last night?"

"No, the last thing I remember is having a drink. That's it."

"Wow, you don't hold your alcohol too well, do you Ronnie?" Ginny taunted.

"It wasn't my first drink."

"Which drink was it?"

"My eighth."

"Wow, you're an alcoholic, aren't you?" Harry asked, the first time he talked since Ginny told him about his poisoned eggs.

"I am _not_ an alcoholic. I just drink to make me forget about work and shit."

"So...you're an alcoholic?" Harry asked. Ron punched him in the head. Harry stumbled into a wall.

"Aw, Ron! My head! You punched me in the head!" Ron and Ginny kept walking.

"How is work, anyway?" asked Ginny. Ron sighed.

"It's alright, I guess. I work behind the counter most of the time, so Fred and George can do business stuff in the back room."

"Business stuff?"

"Fucking their girlfriends." Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"At the same time?"

"Huh. Maybe. I put in a resume for a couple restaurants for serving."

"Oh, great. Works sucks for me. I have to go to all of this boring shit to snap a few photos that probably won't even make it on page."

"You're a great photographer, Gin. They just don't know that yet."

"Yeah, because bloody Colin Creevey is the God of photography. I think I'll just quit the Daily Prophet and work on some magazine somewhere. Maybe like, Vogue or something."

"Is that a muggle magazine?" Ginny nodded and looked at her watch.

"Fuck, I told Faye I'd meet her like, ten min-" Ginny stopped mid-sentence, looking behind her shoulder. Before Ron could ask why, something tackled him from behind. They knocked Ron to the ground.

"Wha-what the fuck?" he asked from the sidewalk. Harry kicked him in the stomach.

"THAT'S FOR PUNCHING ME IN THE HEAD, BITCH." Ginny watched at Harry ran behind a mailbox, giggling as he watched Ron writhe in pain.

"Yeah. I'm just going to go now."

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" yelled Ron. A passing child- no, not a child- teenager stopped and stared.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

"Fuck, no. I'm good," Ron said, slowly getting up from the ground. He could hear Harry giggling from behind a mail box. The girl stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, kid. I'm just peachy."

"My name's not kid. It's Jenney."

"Well, that's fantastic. Go...go run along, kid. Go to school or something."

"It's summer."

"Well then...fuck off."

"Ron! That's not the way to speak to a child!" the mailbox reprimanded.

"I'm not a child," Jenney told the mailbox. "I'm sixteen."

"But you're a poor innocent child! Ron, this is our future!" the mailbox wailed.

"Then our future is screwed," said Ron.

"I'm not fucking innocent. I'm on my way to get some crack right now," Jenney told the mailbox. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" Jenney opened her mouth to reciprocate but found nothing came out. Ron smirked.

"Thought so. Trying to act so tough."

"I'm not trying to act so tough. How did you get those marks on your neck?" Ron sighed.

"I don't know. I was drinking last night and they appeared this morning."

"Maybe you got bit by a vampire."

"There's no such thing as vampires."

"How do you know?" Ron thought for a moment, and saw she had a point.

"But if I was a vampire, how am I in the sun?" Jenney thought for a moment, and saw he had a point.

"Touche."

"Oh, hey, Ron! Wow, what a coincidence. How are you?" Harry asked. Ron and Jenney stared at him.

"Harry. You were just behind that mailbox."

"What? Wha-what are you talking about?" he questioned with a laugh.

"I saw you crawl from behind it."

"Well, you see-"

"Then run a few feet away."

"That's preposterous."

"Then you walked up the sidewalk like you were normal or something." Harry stared at him.

"How'd you get that scar on your head?" Jenney asked. Harry's hand flew to his forehead.

"Oh, this? Knife fight."

"Some guy cut a thunderbolt into your forehead?"

"Yes ma'am," he said proudly. Ron shook his head.

"Look, kid, it was just fantastic talking to you, but we have to leave."

"Aw, come on, Ron. Jenney's a sweet kid."

"I told Ron I was out to buy crack."

"Well see, I wouldn't know that because I just got here." Jenney and Ron shook their heads.

"Right, we're leaving," Ron said, grabbing Harry by the arm and pulling him down the sidewalk.

"Have a nice life!" Jenney called behind them.

Ron never looked back.


End file.
